“What hae you heard?”

“It’s through the town,” Hendry answered, “that a woman was wi’ the dominie.”

“A woman!” cried Tosh, “The woman there’s been sic talk about in connection wi’ the minister?  Whaur are they now?”

“It’s no kent, but—­the dominie was seen goin’ hame by himsel’.”

“Leaving the minister and her thegither!” cried the three men at once.

“Hendry Munn,” Tammas said sternly, “there’s mair about this; wha is the woman?”

“They are liars,” Hendry answered, and shut his mouth tight.

“Gie her a name, I say,” the precentor ordered, “or, as chief elder of this kirk, supported by mair than half o’ the Session, I command you to lift your hat and go.”

Hendry gave an appealing look to Tosh and Spens, but the precentor’s solemnity had cowed them.

“They say, then,” he answered sullenly, “that it’s the Egyptian.  Yes, and I believe they ken.”

The two farmers drew back from this statement incredulously; but Tammas Whamond jumped at the kirk officer’s throat, and some who were in the church that night say they heard Hendry scream.  Then the precentor’s fingers relaxed their grip, and he tottered into the middle of the room.

“Hendry,” he pleaded, holding out his arms pathetically, “tak’ back these words.  Oh, man, have pity, and tak’ them back!”

But Hendry would not, and then Lang Tammas’s mouth worked convulsively, and he sobbed, crying, “Nobody kent it, but mair than mortal son, O God, I did love the lad!”

So seldom in a lifetime had any one seen into this man’s heart that Spens said, amazed: 

“Tammas, Tammas Whamond, it’s no like you to break down.”

The rusty door of Whamond’s heart swung to.

“Who broke down?” he asked fiercely.  “Let no member of this Session dare to break down till his work be done.”

“What work?” Tosh said uneasily.  “We canna interfere.”

“I would rather resign,” Spens said, but shook when Whamond hurled these words at him: 

“’And Jesus said unto him, No man, having put his hand to the plough and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God.’”

“It mayna be true,” Hendry said eagerly.

“We’ll soon see.”

“He would gie her up,” said Tosh.

“Peter Tosh,” answered Whamond sternly, “I call upon you to dismiss the congregation.”

“Should we no rather haud the meeting oursel’s?”

“We have other work afore us,” replied the precentor.

“But what can I say?” Tosh asked nervously, “Should I offer up a prayer?”

“I warn you all,” broke in Hendry, “that though the congregation is sitting there quietly, they’ll be tigers for the meaning o’ this as soon as they’re in the street.”

“Let no ontruth be telled them,” said the precentor.  “Peter Tosh, do your duty.  John Spens, remain wi’ me.”

The church emptied silently, but a buzz of excitement arose outside.  Many persons tried to enter the vestry, but were ordered away, and when Tosh joined his fellow-elders the people were collecting in animated groups in the square, or scattering through the wynds for news.